May I Hold You
by CeCeLa
Summary: April 7, 1945, Konigsberg, the glory of the Prussian Empire, woke up at the end of WWII. "The President of the United States and the British Prime Minister have declared the ultimate transfer to the Soviet Union of the city of Konigsberg and the area adjacent to."
1. Preface

I'll make this short and sweet as I actually hate reading these things. One, these drabbles aren't in any chronological order, although; I'll try my best to make it coherent. Two, I'm not trying to be historically accurate so please don't try to correct me. Three, if you are a fan of my DTB story, no worries. I'm editing it and shall finish it.


	2. Sincere Warning

Sincere Warning:

She turned on her back, shifting her eyes from one mediocre object to the next, unsure were to fix her gaze.

'You're resistance won't assure your leaving." a voice to the left of her said. She paused a moment considering his words before answering.

"Then, it does me no harm." she said slowly, drawing out every word.

"No _good._" he corrected. Her eyes slowly shifted to the left, gazing at him. Her keeper sat, one leg gracefully placed over the other. A book in his hand, he pushed up his glasses and ignored her tentative staring. Soft foots were now in earshot and he glanced up at her through his glass.

"He's coming." he spoke before returning to his reading. She grunted and turned her back to him.

"Let him." she responded, finally settling on gazing at the wall.


	3. A new face

A new face_:  
_

_Gilbert_? She thought and another breeze caused her to grip her shoulders for warmth. Wherever she was, it was freezing and hard. Eyes fluttering, Konis found herself lying on her side, shoulder pressed against the concrete flooring. In a haze, she made out black boots and a door way. They took steps towards her, and her mind tried to connect the feet to someone she knew. _Is that you?_ In an effort to get a better view, Konigsberg used her free had to press down on the concrete in order to push herself up. Black tresses tumbled over her shoulder and she was grateful for the added warmth. Barely raising an inch, she blinked several times as the boots stopped in front of her. The person knelt down, but her eyes were still on the boots. _Those are not his boots._ Suddenly in high alert, her head snapped up and was meet with violet eyes and a dangerously wicked smile.


	4. I shall call you

I shall call you:

"You are awake, da?" before she could answer he gripped her free arm, forcing her to stand up with him. Konis winced at his force and for a moment the room seemed to spin from getting up so fast. Slightly disoriented, her eyes dance all over the room. _Where is Gilbert?_  
As if on queue the man spoke.

"You belong to me now." the man's singsong voice sent an unsettling chill down her spin and she tried to back away but it was to avail. He still held her arm and obviously out weighed her.

"Why am I here?" her distress did not go undetected and Konigsberg cursed herself for being so transparent. His violet eyes scrutinized her every feature, gazing over her every curve, all while still smiling. Despite being fully clothe, she felt naked and exposed. A sudden sense of panic rose within her but she made no such indication to him. Instead, standing bold while he stared on. Her mind reeled, trying to piece together the events that led to this point. Where was Gilbert? How did he allow her to get captured. The last thing she accurately remembered was heart wrenching news of her sister, Berlin, falling at the hands of Russians.

"I shall call you Kaliningrad, da? The mans voice snapped her back to attention and immediately things started falling into place.  
"Russia." she blandly stated and his smiled seemed to wide at the acknowledgement.  
"You know my name. That is very good." his grip never loosened on her arm. She scanned over his facial features, then, as best she could, stood proud, turning her nose up to him.

"Where is Prussia?" she demanded. Amusement mixed with something else danced in his eyes. It almost made her shrink back.  
"You are mine now Kaliningrad, there will be none of that now ok?" with that, he promptly dropped her. She fell on her elbows and the pain that sheered through her arm made her hiss.

"Do not worry, soon you will become one with me." with that the man walked out of the room, closing the heavy door in his wake. Konigsberg held her elbows, eyeing the door feverishly.

"I belong to Prussia." she said boldly.


	5. First Snow

First Snow:

Koni watched the first snowfall of the season from her bedroom window. Her chin resting in the palm of her hand she watched as winter colored the earth. She blinked and the corners of her lips curved into a smile as a memory crossed her mind.  
The two of them were perched on top of a levee, watching the snow fall around them. Koni's eyelids slowly drifted shut before opening again as a flake hinged on her eyelash. Her brown black hair brushed against her neck and cheeks with a fresh gust of wind. With great care she moved over, a knee brushing against her companion's blue pants.

_"Keh, could you move any slower." the man next to her grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. Koni turned her eyes to him. His silvery white hair covered with a wool hat and warm earmuffs covered his ears._

_"We have the lifespan of some 1,000 humans, why rush?" she asked blandly. He grunted and looked at her. Those red eyes in stark contrast to the light around them._

_"The awesome me doesn't move like a tortoise Konigsberg. That's why I am so awesome, you cant deny it." he bragged, a smirk now settled on his face. She had no such intentions of denying his awesome. But a questioned presented itself to her._

_"Is that why," she paused trying to phrase it correctly, "you moved to Berlin?" he stiffened and she noted the deepening of pink in his cheek. Amused, Konigsberg pressed on._

_"She is quite busy…and loud. You two make a great match. Don't you agree? " intrigue dance in her pale blue gray eyes. The man next to her searched for words sufficient enough for her question._

_"I don't choose does things you know that…" he trailed off, turning his face from her view._

_"Oh?" she inquired, turning back to the sea of snow in front of them. Growing slightly more serious, she continued "And does she know that you visit me often?"_

_"The great Prussia doesn't need to explain himself." At that, she smiled._

_"Indeed you don't. The first snowfall is beautiful this year." she stated, moving closer to him._


	6. Dinner

Dinner:

Kaliningrad." she stiffened from the other end of the table, her spoon suspended momentarily in the air before she took a bite. _That is not my name_. The man across from her cocked his head to the side. His violet eyes inspected her closely. She kept eating.

"Kaliningrad." he called again and despite the softness of his voice, his displeasure with her actions tangled with every syllable. "He isn't coming back, da."

She snapped up, looking the man in the eye. His mouth was fixed in a smile but his eyes screamed more to her. She shivered and raised her spoon to her lips. _I will not answer to him. That is not my name_. He pushed his chair away. The woman didn't look up as the massive giant stalked to her end of the table. Feeling him hover over her, she refused to make any such acknowledgement until a hand gripped her hair forcing her head up.

"Perhaps those who do not use their tongue, wont need it, da?" he asked, the coolness of stainless steel pressed to the corner of her lips. Her heart raced and she could taste the metal on her tongue._ Calm yourself, Koni. Now is not the time to be rash_. She blinked, her eyes slowly rolling upwards to meet his own.

"Perhaps." she responded in a monotone voice. His grip on her hair loosened a bit. The man meet her gaze and smiled more.

"Do you want to keep it?" he questioned, eyes penetrating through her. Koni swallowed as the blade grazed her upper lip.

"It might be useful." she answered, aware of the proximity between herself, him and the knife. He nodded and released her.

"You should use it more, da?" he called as he walked back to his seat. She watched him, his massive broad back in her view. _He will come back_. She thought, scooping the last of her soup on the spoon and ate.


	7. Dance with me

_**Dance with me:**  
_

_Konigsberg brushed her fingers over the lace in her dress . Head down, she pulled gently at the fabric, making sure it was straight. String and wind instruments played in harmony but she stood towards the back of the room fixing her clothing until someone cleared their throat. She glanced up to be greeted by white hair and a hand outstretched to her._

_"My I have this dance?" Prussia mumbled and raised his head to meet her gaze. Surprised by his gesture, she grabbed his hand and he lead her to the dance floor. The two dancers interlocked hands. Konigsberg studied her friend's face as he shyly placed a hand on her hips, she, in turn, placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. The tempo of the song speed up a tad, and she let him lead the way. Even in her shoes, he stood a head taller than her and she had to tilt her head up to look into his eyes. He was looking off in the distant and her eyes drifted towards what held his attention. She smiled when things clicked into place; he was looking at Old Fritz. They glided in circles as the strings took over._

_"Is Old Fritz making you dance?" she inquired, titling her head so as to get his attention. Prussia grumbled and looked down at her, obviously displeased with the present situation._

_"This is stupid. I'm an awesome fighter not some pansy like that girly boy Austria." he jerked his head towards the man and turned her so that she could see him. Indeed Austria, dressed rather finely was dancing with Hungary. She and Prussia turned again she considered his words. Sighing, Prussia spun her out and brought her back to him._

_"Is fighting like dancing?" she asked him. Prussia blinked, and Konis could see the wheels churning in his head. Mentally Konis smiled at his bewildered expression and pressed the idea._

_"You move your feet a certain way, you hands, " she gave his hand a gentle squeeze "And you and your opponent move with each other in sync." he turned her again and she nodded._

_"You're…strange Konis." he finally said and she laughed lightly at his reaction._

_"Here, this is our battlefield. You will be my leader and I am your warrior. Our enemy is everyone. So, how shall we win this battle?" she asked and the familiar gleam in his eyes came back. He pulled her slightly closer and tightened his hold on her waste. They swayed together, moving in gentle circles around the people. When they passed Austria and Hungary, Prussia stuck his tongue out at them leaving Austria with a indignant expression. Konigsberg giggled and Prussia spun her out and turned her around. Her royal blue dress flared out before coming back into the warriors grip. If this were a true battle, they were winning. Prussia pulled her closer until his chin brushed against her curls. She fixed her face into the curve of his shoulder. He smelled of something sweet and earthy. Konis took a deep breathe, cherishing the smell. The strings slowed down to a hum then settled out only to be replaced by clapping. When the two dancers looked up, they were the only ones left on the 'battlefield'. Prussia pulled away, bowing with her hand still in his, he brought it to his lips, looking into those grey eyes, and gave her a gentle kiss. Light pink flushed her features and the signature smirk graced her comrades lips. When they parted ways, she made her way back to her solemn corner and was greeted by Old Fritz._

_"What did you tell him to make him want to dance?" the man asked, one brow raised at the young woman. Konigsberg watched Prussia, who had another dance partner, and ghost fingers over the hand he kissed. It was still warm._

_"Fighting is another form of dance." she said in her soft voice. Old Fritz nodded at her than turned to watch his charge, who acquired quite an audience.  
_


	8. Rebuilding

Rebuilding:

Konigsberg laid still, eyes closed and adamant at ignoring her intruder. The man had made himself comfortable in the chair closes to her bed but said nothing. For several minutes they sat in silence; his piercing stare set every hair on her body on end. Without warning, an unimaginable pain shot through Konigsberg's very being, eyes shooting open she screamed.

"Ahhhh!" it felt as if someone had heated a chainsaw and was slicing through every part of her body. Her form contoured in the bed as she tried to escape another wave of pain. Twisting around, sheets entangling her tiny figure, she fell to the concrete flooring. Her chest felt as if it caved in and she gripped the sheets around her for support.

"W-what's happe- ahhhhh God!" for a moment her eyes rolled back and the room seemed to fade in and out of focus. Gasping for air and with shaking fingers, she reached out for Russia who had gracefully stood to his feet. The woman recoiled from his advancing, heaving for air as the pain seemed to twist every bone and muscle in her body. Konigsberg balled herself into the fetal position, clingy to the sheets for dear life. She shivered as her body was covered in cold sweat and an indescribable vacancy filled her core.

"You are being rebuild." his eerily calm voice seemed distant in her rushing ears. Russia leaned down and pulled her close by the end of her sheet.

_Rebuilt_? To weak to protest, Konigsberg merely grunted in response. He gathered her up in his arms and, despite herself, she curled into his warmth. There was a void in the pit of her stomach and, combined with the sweats, made her feel cold. Russia released her and she fell limp onto the bed. The lack of warmth made her shiver. Her hands reached out for anything to cover up with, finding nothing she sighed in defeat just as the big nation draped a blanket over her.

"No dying, da?" the man said and she wrapped the soft wool around her.


	9. Penny for your thoughts

Penny for your thoughts_:  
_

_Our Father who art in Heaven_… Konigsberg gripped the iron cross tighter and shifted her weight under the blanket. _Halloweth be thy name_ She shivered and curled further within herself. _Thy kingdom come thy will_… Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. The person didn't wait for her to answer but entered. Opening her eyes just enough to make out a silhouette; she relaxed a little.

"Some food will do you good." Lithuania said and gave the woman a weak smile. When she didn't respond he sat the tray on the desk and walked to the door. As he turned the handle, a faint 'vielen dank' reached his ears. He smiled at her formality. Turning to face her, Lithuania nodded.

"Gern eschewed." he said with equal formality before closing the door.

* * *

***vielen dank-"many thanks"  
**

*** gern eschewed-"it was my pleasure"  
**

**Many thanks to all of the awesome people who enjoy this dribble drabble! As you can see, my updates are regular cause I'm getting ideas every freaking morning! Anywho, I'm trying to find some awesome person who can do some fanart for this story (I cant draw to save my life). So, if you are interest please let me know! Danke! ;)**


	10. A good feeling

A good feeling:

There was something deep within Konigsberg that made her feel ok, if not secure. Whatever was being "rebuilt", Russia kept secret. She didn't know how long she'd be in the tiny box of a room, and; she craved freedom of her own home. The huge nation only allowed two visitors aside from himself, Lithuania and Estonia. Both of whom were never in her company longer than an hour before she was left alone again. Still, as long as the Iron Cross hung from her neck, there was, somehow, a connection to everything she knew.


	11. Mark of bravery

Mark of bravery:_  
_

_Konigsberg brushed her fingers along the cobalt painted walls of the castle. Her shoes echoed throughout the abnormally abandoned edifice. For the most part Konigsberg Castle was quiet, not a soul in sight. Konigsberg passed a mirror, her reflection was just as grim as the desolate corridor. Still she walked on until she reached the double doors. She knew where he'd be, and as she peeked through the cracked door, and elbow confirmed her suspicion. Pushing gently, she saw Prussia sitting on the floor facing _his_ desk. His back to her, legs prompted up and arms loosing hugging them. He didn't need another diplomat or ally. Konigsberg stepped into the office as what she knew he needed: a friend._

_"Gilbert?" she whispered his human name as a sign of good face. The man didn't stir an inch, he was stiff as a rock. The image unnerved her as she cautiously knelt beside him. His demeanor was rigid and the normally talkative albino's mouth was fixed in a straight line. Upon leaning closer to him, Konigsberg could tell he had been in this same spot for some time now. His shirt was wrinkled and the first few buttons undone, red eyes were puffy and glued to it's former leader's desk. As a last solution, she moved into his line of sight, forcing him to look at her and not the desk. Prussia blinked and looked up as if someone had shown light in his face. His eyes met equally grieving ones, the corner of his lips twitched and Konigsberg could see his impassive mask slipping._

_"Gil-" she started but the nation's resolve broke and he lunged forward. Startled, Konigsberg shut her eyes as he let out a heart wrenching wail, burying his face into her chest. He pulled on the back of her dress as if hanging on for dear life. She tittered and pulled him closer. Tears slide down her pale cheeks but she would not cry aloud. This was for him and him alone; she had to be strong. Her fingers laced through the silver strains of his hair, grazing his scalp, hoping to comfort him. Pulling away, she sat down fully, arranging so that she was seated between his propped up legs. Grabbing his face, she brushed her lips against his forehead, with great care she kissed both eyelids. Tender kisses to his cheeks, nose, chin and every part of his tear stained face, save him lips. And when she was done she pull him close. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, and Konigsberg felt that if he did not have his arms around her now, her precious nation might fall to pieces. _

_If there was every a moment when she questioned his strength, this dismissed it all. For she found, crying and mourning someone you loved showed more bravery than winning battles._

* * *

S/N: This scene was inspired by Trading Yesterday's "May I". It's a great song, check it out with time allows. Until next time, Ciao

-Cece ;)


	12. Water Basin

Water Basin

On the steel table sat two basins filled with warm water. Konigs looked at them, the thought of warm water was a pleasant luxury. Slowly lifting herself of the bed, she walked to the basins. Dipping her hands in one, the water sent a soothing chill through her body. Checking the door, she undressed slowly, carefully placing the cross on her bed. Kongis bathe with the towel provided, and with the other basin washed her hair. New clothing had also been provide, they were distinctly Russian. Wearily of this wardrobe, she dressed anyway, hiding the cross in her blouse.


	13. Tracking Time

Tracking time:

Minutes became hours, hours became days, days became weeks, weeks became months, months became…years? Königsberg wasn't sure anymore. How long had she been in that room? How long had she been in Russia? Why hasn't Gilbert come to get her yet?

"What is your name?" Russia asked once and again. Königsberg wouldn't dare fix her mouth to say it.

_Just let me out already._ When was the last time she'd been outside? It was snowing again. Russia stepped closer, drawing the woman's gaze from the window back to himself.

"Your name?" he inquired again with a smile. She looked back at him, her eyes gentle but set, face soft but resolved. She would not break for him. The man chuckled and Königsberg blinked in response.

"Your stubbornness is just like his, da?" For a moment, emotion flashed across her face and Russia laughed fully. An uncomfortable feeling tugged at her heart and, absently, her hand drifted to the hidden cross beneath her shirt.

_You know where he is_. She withdrew her hand quickly when Russia raised a questionable brow.


	14. Plot

Plot:

"What do you plan to do?" Estonia asked, pushing is glasses up on his face. Konigs eyes drifted to him, eying with a stare that made the man shift his gaze from her face. It was unnatural to him how the woman could say so much with a stare or a simple shoulder shrug. Surely, from his experience with women, they loved to talk. But Konigs seemed to only talk when she felt it was necessary and, for that, he found her a bit intriguing.

"I don't know yet." she mumbled before rising from the metal chair at her small desk.

"He's going to find out you know. Running wont be smart." he offered his advise but only seemed to incriminate himself. The woman's gaze fell on him again and she made her way around the bed. Estonia shifted nervously in his chair before speaking again.

"He has his ways of breaking people down," he shivered at the thought, "he won't make exceptions for you."

"Good." the woman responded and looked out of the window. _To assume escaping was easy would be foolish_. Konigs thought and sighed with disdain.


	15. The game afoot

The game afoot:

Russia frowned, the iron cross dangling from his hand. It was insulting to say the least that she still had the thing, yet; it went undetected by him for so long. Konigsberg, clutched her fist on her pant leg, but showed no other indication of her displeasure. Russia twirled the necklace between his fingers, eying it carefully before fixing his eyes on her.

"This won't do at all." He finally said. Konigsberg watched him but said nothing as he sat the cross on his knee. "You know, he isn't coming for you." Konigsberg snorted and looked away.

"You seem as if you are trying to convince yourself, rather than me." she said coolly and looked back at him. The nation smiled, his fingers rubbing against the smooth surface of metal. He leaned forward and her first instinct was to back away from his emanate stare but she stayed put.

"You do not understand I see." a smile slowly crept over his face. "He is dissolved now, he can not come back, even if he wanted too." His words may have had a strong impact if Lithuania had not informed her sooner. Still, the words carried the same sting, if not worse, coming from the man she deemed responsible.

"He is resilient."

"He has all of Europe and America stopping him, da. Prussia can only get you back if I say so." Russia leaned away, amused at her silence. Tilting his head, he studied her face. There were changes, subtle ones ,he noticed, after the rebuilding of Kaliningrad. Yet, the personification of said city was adamant against it. She proved to be an entertaining addition but troublesome nonetheless. Still, her silent protest was unless, but he would humor himself with her little 'game'.

"Is that a twinge of fear I detect?" she mocked him and Russia chuckled

"If nothing is there, why should I fear? Do tell me Kaliningrad?" the woman shifted in her seat but appeared unaffected by the new name. She stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly. Russia waited, he was in no hurry.

"You eyes," she started and blinked again, "they say more than your mouth." and then, she smiled. Oh, a humorous game indeed. Russia stood then, holding the cross in his fist.

"You are so funny, Kaliningrad. We should talk more, da?" he turned away from her and exited her tiny room. Konigsberg didn't watch him leave, but quickly turned in that direction when the familiar sound of iron hitting iron didn't reach her ears. He left the door open.


	16. Once was mine

Once was mine:_  
_

_A breeze blew the green grass and tickled the soles of her feet. Konigsberg shifted onto her stomach, the sun warming her shoulders. _It's so quite._ She thought, resting her head on the green grass. It crunched, some pricking her ear. In front of her, the small lake rippled as another breeze blew through. Sighing, she scooted to it's edge, Konigs leaned forward, looking at her reflection. To be upset was unnecessary, she knew. After all, one person could have two people in their heart, can't they? She used to be at the center, but now…_  
_She dipped a hand in the water, swirling it around in the lukewarm liquid. Her reflection shook, and she bit her lip. _There was a time when I… I was the only one_. Sighing, she laid her head back down, fingers dipping in and out of the water. _It's so quite when he is away.

* * *

**Hey guys! Thanks for all of the love and support for the story! Reviews are welcomed! Also, if you have any request or ideas, just let me know. As always, I love hearing from you guys! Ciao!**

**-Cece ^_^**


	17. Art of Persuasion

Art of Persuasion:

"He is playing with me." Königsberg stated again as if the man before her was hard of hearing. Lithuania sighed, and took another step into the room. Königsberg eyed him from her bed but made no such sign of leaving it.

"You'll starve if you don't eat." he added, hoping that would coax her out of the room. She offered him a blank stare in response. Russia would most certainly not be pleased with her current behavior and his lack of persuasion skills. Running out of options, the Lithuanian tried a different approach.

"Please?" he offered.

"Not likely." she tersely responded and the man mental cursed her stubbornness.

"You are already apart of Russia, there is no use fighting against it like this." his annoyance getting the better of him. "It's a useless battle with only one outcome."

"I will not play him game." Konigsberg interjected.

"You already _are_." he stressed to her which earned him another blank stare.


	18. Perfect Execution

Perfect Execution:

Russia watched his guest from the head of the table, studying with an attentive gaze. There were so many ways this could have went wrong. But the big nation doubted it would. He had put much thought into his plan, more thought than he'd done for actual nations that became one with him. Russia reached for his bottle of vodka, eyes never leaving his dining partner. Perhaps it was because the girl was harder. No, they all had some form of resistance. _Resistance with grace_? Her femininity and air of superiority was a nice change. A small smile graced his lips before taking a long drag from the bottle in his hand. Abruptly, his companion jumped up, nearly knocking down a glass and shaking the table in the process. Russia didn't even stir.

"Look Russia," voiced high with an accusing finger shoved towards assailant.

"Ivan will do. We are allies now, you don't have to be so formal." Russia added generously but held up a hand once Lithuania made his presence known.

"Hold that thought for moment." Russia said as the Lithuanian crept silently into the room. His fleeting look of surprise didn't go pass either persons and he made it to his boss's side. Leaning down to whisper in his ear; the smile on Russian's lips widened as he turned back to his guest.

"That is most wonderful news Lithuania. Ok, Gilbert you can finish now."

* * *

**FYI: I know most people portray Prussia as Kaliningrad or Kaliningrad Oblast. But here, I want him to be all of East Germany. Königsberg (Kaliningrad), still functioned as the major city within Kaliningrad.  
**


	19. Act of Endearment

Act of Endearment:

Königsberg closed the double doors to the library quietly. In the dead of night she didn't expect to hear noise, but sniffles and feet patting down the carpeted adjacent hallway caught her attention. Walking towards the sounds, Königsberg spotted the source of the noise.

"Ludwig?" she called to him. The little German turned immediately, clinging to a stuffed animal, eyes redden with tears. She knelt and held her arms out to him. Ludwig scurried into the warm embrace before Königsberg held him at arm's length to ask of his nightly excursion.

"Why are you awake kleiner?" the boy sniffed again and his lips trembled slightly.

"Had a bad dream. Big brother went away." the blond-haired boy's face was a mixture of worry and fear. Königsberg reached out and brushed her fingers through his golden bangs and he visibly relaxed. Gathering him up in her arms again, she stood and proceeded in the direction he was going.

"Shall we go investigate?" she asked and the boy nodded approvingly against her neck and placed a thumb in his mouth. Königsberg hummed an old German lullaby as they walked and Ludwig struggle to stay wake. But once they reached Prussia's door, his head popped up while the woman knocked softly. For a moment, there was no answer and Königsberg could feel Ludwig's restlessness and knocked a little harder. Finally, faint sounds came from the room followed by grumbling as the door opened. Half dazed, hair in disarray, clothing extremely wrinkled, Prussia stood at the door, dumbfounded by his two visitors.

"He had a bad dream." Königsberg offered and Ludwig reached his arms out to be held.

"Um…" Prussia responded and it took him several moments to realize his brother was reaching out for him. Ludwig snuggled against Prussia's neck and the old nation wrapped his arms around him.

"It was scary." Ludwig whispered and sniffed.

"Those are the worst too. Totally unawesome dreams. What was it about?" the Prussian walked back into his room and Ludwig held out his free had for Königsberg to join them.

"You went away." the child said with his thumb in his mouth. Prussia looked from his brother to Königsberg who gave him an encouraging smile.

"And I never came back?" the Prussia ventured and the boy jerked his head in the negative.

"That is wrong, I would never leave you. I'm to strong to let someone take we away. I'm the awesome Prussia!" Prussia raised his voice to sing of his own praises before lowering it again with a tad of concern. "You know that, right?" He set Ludwig down on the bed and waited for the boy to answer. Ludwig nodded and Prussia smiled brightly.

"Good, now let get some sleep. And the awesome me is here to fight off any unawesome bad dreams." Quickly, the little boy climbed to the pillow, kicking away the covers before sliding under them.

"Will you stay too?" pleading blue eyes looked to Königsberg who in turn looked to Prussia. He shrugged nonchalantly before getting in his bed again. Königsberg also joined in beside Ludwig. The boy patted the left side of the bed until he felt his female friend. Satisfied, the little German clung to his brother's nightshirt. Königsberg resumed the lullaby she'd started early, running her fingers through the boys bangs again. She watched as he fought to keep his eyes on Prussia. They fluttered but couldn't fight the sleep that came under the woman's soothing touch. As his movements stilled and his breathing became steady, Königsberg looked at Prussia who was snoring loudly. The man's mouth was hanging open; it was hard to believe this was the powerful warrior nation. Chuckling to herself, Königsberg silently got out of the bed. She leaned over and kissed Ludwig's forehead. Then, walking to the other end of the bed, brushed her fingers through the other man's bangs. He didn't even flinch. The woman stole one last glance at the sleeping pair before leaving the brother's for the night.

* * *

**I very much enjoyed writing this scene! **

***Kleiner**: "little one"


	20. Fresh Air

Fresh Air:

Prussia sat at the small desk provided to him, courtesy of his new "boss". Before him was a stack of paperwork. Never, in all of his years of existence, had he been good with such diplomatic things. As of now, he'd read and reread the same line on the same page five times.

"Verdammt!" Frustration winning over understanding, the Prussian shoved the document into the stack on his tiny desk. In slow motion, the papers all slide off the desk on the floor and sprayed in different directions.

"Fick deine mutter!" he yelled at the pile. The act did nothing to cool his temperaments. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his eyes. He felt stifled in the room that could hardly qualify as an office. Grunting, he undid the first bottom of his shirt and opened on of desk drawers. Grabbing a pack of Russian brand cigarettes, he walked towards the door.

"Not as good as Garbaty." he grumbled with the cigarette dangling from his lips. Stepping into the halfway, he calmly flipped the bird to the stack of papers on the floor before slamming the door and stepping outside into the crisp winter air.

* * *

**"Verdammt**"-Damn it

"**Fick deine mutter"**-Fuck your mother (I don't think paper has a mother...)

**Garbaty was a famous German brand of cigarettes started in the late 1800s. The factory was sold during the beginning of the Nazi regime because of suspensions of having connections to the Jews. It was brought by a man name Koerger who sold cheaper tobacco, due to its scarcity. After the war, the factory was appropriated and renamed VEB Garbaty, selling Club brands, before merging with another company and named Berliner Zigarettenfabrik. It official closed in 1991. I came across a picture of Germany and Prussia, with Germany lighting a cigarette for Prussia. This, inspiring this teed-bit. Now that I have given you a history lesson, which I said in my Preface that I wasn't, I'm going to bed now! Ciao!**

-Cece^_^


	21. Glimpses

Glimpses:

A cold draft forced Königsberg to wash quicker. Her once hot water had turned lukewarm and she finished in haste least she catch a cold. Pulling her damp hair to one side, the young woman pulled on her undergarments and pants. Leaning over the bed, she reached for her bra but snapped up quickly as the door swung open. Immediately she covered herself, turning her back to her intruder but never looking away from the door. Russia stood, with this hand still firmly gripping the door knob. A half-naked Königsberg wasn't what he was expecting to see when he opened the door. But now that the sight was before him; he couldn't bring himself look away. His eyes scanned the expose skin of her shoulders, pausing momentary at where her hands covered her bare breast. Eyes trailed down the length of her torso to the parts of her abdomen exposed to him. Damp, wavy black hair cascaded to the small of her back. Water dripped down on her ivory skin, slid down into the waste band of her black pants. The pants did no justice in hiding the curve of her hips for they clung to her still damp flesh. Her legs were long and lean and, much like the rest of her body, was strong but delicate. Russia took a step forward.

"Get out." the threat ranged loud and clear despite Königsberg's voice being dangerously low. Russia averted his eyes from her backside now to look at her face. They stared eye to eye and Königsberg's gaze narrowed in warning. Russia let his eyes wander over her again before stepping back out of the room. Once the door was closed, Konigsberg quickly moved to lock it.


	22. Confessions

Confessions:

The room was black, and Königsberg strained to make out her chair in the dark. Everything was the same, so familiar. Chair. Desk. Bed. Window. Her eyes drifted to the door. _I couldn't leave it open_. She thought with dismay. White walls, gray floor, metal desk, metal chair, metal headrails and a mattress. Königsberg had studied every inch of the tiny living space._ I'm slowly losing my mind._ Beige blanket, ten micro cracks in the wall next to the dresser, chipped paint shaped like a diamond in the right bottom corner of the wall under the window. _I can't hold on without you_. Eight footsteps from one corner of the room to the next, the ceiling was two shades darker than the walls, the light bulb over head flickered 389 times, varying slightly, when the lights first turn on._ Please Gilbert, come save me_. She pulled her blanket to cover her neck and curled up her legs. Her hand drifted to the vacant spot around her neck, where the iron cross once hung. Clinging instead to the collar of her shirt, Königsberg squeezed her eyes shut.

"I miss you…" she whispered in the dark.


	23. Questions

Questions:

"Estonia," she called and the man stopped in his tracks. Königsberg turned from the window and looked at the other nation. She frowned slightly at his expression. _He looks so off put and nervous, I'm almost reluctant to ask_. She thought to herself. She folded her arms over her chest and eyed the man for a moment._ He seems wise enough_…

"May I ask you a question?" she inquired. Estonia didn't respond, and Königsberg could see the many emotions flickering in his eyes.

"Yes, what is it." he responded with reluctance and pushed his glasses up. The woman before him shifted her gaze back to the window and bit her lip. _A nervous habit_? He thought as his anxiety got the better of him. The thought of Königsberg being nervous seemed contradictory.

"What does it mean," she paused and Estonia refocused his attention to her. She wouldn't meet his gaze, and he suspected that the topic might be of a sensitive nature. He stepped further into the room and closed the door for privacy. Königsberg looked up as he approached and the nation, despite being slightly apprehensive, was glad that she didn't move away. His gaze softened to show she had his full attention. If this was a matter of delicacy, the least he could do was be strong. Estonia, hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder.

"What does what mean?" he tried his hardest to sound strong but soothing. And much to his amusement, Königsberg composed herself quickly. Reverting back to semi-stoic woman he knew and slightly backed away from him. He was relieved.

"What happens when one is dissolved?" she asked outright and Estonia bit his lip.

* * *

**This my be my last update for a little while. A close family member passed away and I'm not in much of a creative mood. Don't worry, I'll keep the story going. I have some more stories in the works as well. Again, thanks to everybody for reading and just keep my family in your prayers.**  
**-CeCe**


	24. Training

Training:

Russia sighed heavily and rubbed his temples. The report Poland had given him was less than satisfactory. This satellite state was proving to be more troublesome than Belarus. If he read the word 'like' or 'totally' one more time; Russia was sure he would forget his sanity. Just as he picked up the last page of the report someone knocked on the door.

"Mr. Russia?" Estonia called before opening the door. "You called for me." the older satellite state stepped into the office and Russia gestured for him to sit down.

"I'd much rather stand, thank you." Estonia politely declined. Russia raised a brow but didn't comment on the refusal.

"So?" Russia asked and placed the paper on top of a stack.

"She is still in the room. I don't think she plans to leave it." Estonia pushed up his glasses. Russia sat back in his chair, the leather making a squeaking sound as the big nation adjusted himself. He sat his elbow on the armrest and looked past Estonia.

"Eduard," he said slowly, trying to organize his thoughts. "You two are rather…close, da?" Russia looked at Estonia who's gaze fell to the floor.

"I wouldn't exactly put it that way." Estonia offered.

"No?" Russia questioned, leaning on his desk. His charge looked up at him and Russia smiled at the man trying to appear reserved.

"She doesn't want to be here or get to know the people who live here." Estonia caught the familiar gleam in Russia's eye and feared that he might do something drastic.

"That won't do at all." Russia stood and walked over to Estonia. " I think she needs to be taught how to behave as a satellite, da?" The big nation placed and hand on the smaller nation's shoulder and squeezed.

* * *

**Hello everyone, thanks for keeping me and my family in your prayers. And, as promised, here is another chapter!**

**-CeCe ^_^**


	25. Temptation

Temptation:

Königsberg clenched her blanket and said words that she knew Prussia would kill to hear. She glared at the bed frame, stripped of it's mattress, and rested her head against the wall. Another gust of cold air circled the room and she pulled her knees in.

"Ve-verdammt." she mumbled through clenched teeth and harsh breathe. Burying her red nose into the sleeve of her military jacket, her eyes drifted towards the light emitting from the hallway into her dark room. Again, Russia had left her door open, but took with him her mattress, heating and lighting. Now, scrunched in a corner, covered with a fleece blanket, the temptation of stepping outside called to her. She sniffed and rubbed the snot into her sleeve. As the sunset further into the horizon, warmth went with it. Königsberg closed her eyes, curling her toes in her boots, she tried to force sleep that never came.


	26. Hiding

**Hiding**:

Königsberg bolted upright, her heart racing as she tried to focus her vision. She looked down, noticing immediately the maroon couch she had just been sleeping on. _This is not my room. Where am I? Where is my room?_ As her eyes adjusted to the lighting, wood and greenery replaced metal and the spaciousness felt too open. _I want to go back, take me back now_. Her eyes danced in every direction but not really seeing. Königsberg placed a hand over her rapid beating heart. _I don't like this_… She thought as an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability washed over her.

Back straight, eyes forward, she tried to reason within herself. Approaching footsteps, however; made her apprehensive and she quickly searched for somewhere to hide. Spotting a small crevice, Königsberg squeezed into the tiny space between the bookshelf and the wall, she slide down so that her back was pressed against the smooth mahogany and her bent knees sandwiched between the wall and her own body. The closed quarters eased her heart as Russia stepped into the office, obviously looking for her. He paused, hand still on the knob and inspected his office meticulously. A frown had settled on his face and, for a moment, Königsberg caught a glimpse of disappointment in his features. When his eyes finally landed on the bookshelf and the person crammed between it and the wall, he smile and stalked over.

"You're wake, da? That's good." Eyes slanted dangerously to him, but he seemed immune to her glare. Russia knelt in front of her so they were eye level.

"Where am I?" she demanded him. Ignoring the question, Russia reached out and grabbed a lock of her hair. Twirling it around his finger, he watched how it curled before looking back at his acquisition.

"We're going on a trip." he announced with a smile and gently tugged hair that was still in his grasp.

"And if I refuse?" Königsberg questioned and tried to limit the proximity between them but the wall prevented her from any movement. The thought of leaving made her heart skip a beat and the way his eyes analyzed her ever reaction caused her hands to feel clammy. _Calm down Königsberg_. She warned herself again. Russia chuckled then looked at the hair that he know had laying in his palm.

"You think you have a choice, that is so funny. I am the boss, da. You do what I say. Why are hiding between my bookcase? I thought you would be happy to leave that room." Königsberg snorted. Looking away from violet eyes, she turned her attention to the wall.


	27. Crack in the Mask

**Crack in the Mask**:

The tires of the car crushed the clear ice and white snow beneath as the building came into view. Despite the sunshine, ice hung from tree branches and a steady breeze rattled the tress in the early morning hours. If the situation was different, Lithuania might have been in a more festive mood. But the holidays seemed less than pleasant as he glanced at the sleeping woman across from him. He looked to his brothers, Latvia was staring attentively at Königsberg while Estonia ignored it all and stared out of the window. Wanting to also thinking of anything but what happened, Lithuania watched as they pulled into the driveway.

Russia shifted Königsberg into his grip as the car came to a complete stop. Tossing Königsberg over his shoulder like a rag-doll, he got out of the car. All of the Baltics waited as he did so, not uttering a word. He walked towards his St. Petersburg home fully expecting the Baltic countries to follow. Once they all were out of the car, it was Latvia who spoke first.

"Did he really have to tranquilizer her?" the shortest of the Baltic countries questioned a bit too loudly, which earned him an evil glare from both his brother. In truth, Lithuania was thinking the same thing. He sighed, eyes fixed on the broad back of his boss and the woman dangling from it. Russia's white scarf blew almost in sync with Königsberg hair. She looked so tiny compared to Russia. Lithuania rubbed his left arm to warm it from a chill that didn't come from being outside. _I'd never seen her so frantic, so scared_. He shivered, replaying the event in his mind. She didn't want to leave the room, let alone Moscow. For the life of him, the Baltic country couldn't understand why she acted in such a way. Sighing again as they approached the door, he feared the worst.

_Has he broken you already_?


	28. Replacement

**Replacement**:

Prussia shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up at the work in progress. One had firmly placed on his hip, he frowned at the site.  
_This is going to be one ugly un awesome piece of sh_…

"Oi, General!" Prussia turned, breaking his train of thought, to see Junior Lieutenant Molden. Who was, aside from himself, the only German-speaking military personnel. The man jogged up to him. Once he was close enough, he saluted and Prussia did the same.

"Where the hell have you been?" Prussia questioned with a grin.

"Doing the work that you assigned me to, General. Here, I got a letter from the Marshall for you." Lt. Molden retrieve the folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over. Gracelessly Prussia opened it and read aloud.

"General Beilschmidt, I wish you inform you that I am currently in St. Petersburg and will be for the following week due to blah blah blah," he skimmed down further into the letter, "I am looking forward to seeing the progress you have had in Kaliningrad and yeah yeah get to the point already. Your station is being moved to East Berlin for the next several months until further notice…" he paused and reread the last lines mentally before glancing at Lt. Molden who'd started on his second cigarette.

"That's good, right?" Lt. Molden chimed in but Prussia had forgotten he was there.

"Ja…" he answered, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Smoke?" the man next to him offered and he took without thought. Taking a long drag, Prussia tilting his chin up and blew the smoke in the sky. Without a second glance, he shoved the letter into his pocket.

"So what do you think of this building? Quite a site, eh?" the lieutenant asked trying to brighten the suddenly dim mood of his superior. Prussia took another drag, this time letting the smoke vent through his nose.

"Koni wouldn't approve." he mumbled to himself.

"Who?" the young officer turn towards the man who seemed so distant from him now. Prussia wasn't sure if he said that to the building in progress or that he was leaving Kaliningrad. With one final intake of nicotine he threw the cigarette to the ground, putting it out with the toe of his boot.

"She's an old friend, but she's long gone now." Prussia answered and proceeded to walk away. Waving over his head without turning around, he called to Molden.

"Thanks for the letter. Now get back to that awesome work."

* * *

**Hello everyone! I just want to say that you guys are awesome! lol That's all :D**

**-CeCe ^_^**


	29. The End of Me

The End of Me:

"He had no right!" Königsberg raised her voice, a rarity but she was angry. Lithuania flinched as the young woman slammed the closet door shut. She opened it again, stared for a moment then closed it again.

"What are you doing?" Estonia inquired as Königsberg paced the entirety of the room. She ignored him. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. She thought to herself, keeping track of every step. Her new room was big, open and distinctly Russian. It was unfamiliar, everything was unfamiliar, mosaic parquet flooring, alternating four different dark and light woods, white walls sprinkled with sage color floral patterns.

"There is no blue." She mused aloud, tracing the patterning, familiarizing herself with the form. A bed, bigger than the previous, more pillows, elaborate comforter set. She frowned.

"Admiring the walls?" The voice caused both nations to turn towards the door. Russia walked in, dressed in traditional high-ranking military uniform. Lithuania and Estonia took a step back, to let Russia in fully. Königsberg didn't move and offered him no response. Her eyes narrowed at the wall paper beneath her fingers. _He had no right to drag me here_.

"Kaliningrad." The name made her cringe and the anger within her returned. Footsteps closed in behind her. That's not my name. She thought and her fingers flexed against the wall.

"Kalinin-" the room was silenced by loud smack of Königsberg hand across Russia's face. His face hardly turned but the force was hard enough to make his hat fall to the floor. His right cheek redden and, for the second time, Königsberg saw him frown.

"Lithuania, Estonia, leave us for a moment." Russia commanded though his voice was calm. Königsberg held his gaze, warring within herself whether to stay or run. She'd lost control, showed weakness and vulnerability. Once the door was closed, Königsberg had no time think as Russia grabbed a handful of her hair. Jerking her head so that she looked directly in his eyes. His large gloved hand circled her neck.

"I see there are things you still need to learn. For one, never do that again." he threatened, pushing her back against the wall. Königsberg gasped, eyes widening for the pressure on her throat. Violet eyes, bore deep on her and she couldn't bring herself to look away. Her hands flared widely; she swung and hit him once more in the face. Nails, dug into his pale cheeks and drew blood. Russia swung her and Königsberg hit and bounced on the bed from the force. Scrambling with the sheets, the woman tried to climb on the other side.

"No!" she screamed when he grabbed her leg, pulling her back to him. She kicked, twisted, swung her fist, anything to get him away from her. But the man was too big, too strong and once again his hands was around her tiny neck. He leaned over, pressing all of his weight down on her small frame.

"Get off of me." Königsberg screamed, Russia grabbed her jaw between his hand, smiling manically as he squeezed. Her boots kicked at his legs and hands tried to push his face away but all efforts were in vain. Small cuts lined cheeks where droplets of blood dangled. She reached for his blond locks and pulled a fistful. Russia released her for a moment and smacked her hands away.

"Woman, you wear down my patience." Russia said and tightened the hold around her mouth. She heaved and tried to pry his hands from her face.

"If you intent to intimidate me," she started through clenched teeth, "It will not work."

"I hold your life in my hands. I could end now if I so choose. You are not in Prussia anyone and I am not so gracious towards insolence."

"Take my life then, I gladly insist." Königsberg spat out and stop resisting. Russia looked over her face, pale blue eyes empty of everything but anger. His eyes roamed her fluster features and lingered on her redden lips. They were set, swollen from his own force. They called to him, in a way the Russian didn't recognized, distracting his thoughts. He squeezed slightly, and they parted from the force. Beckoning him to act, to touch. Russia furrowed his brow, confused and unsure how to proceed. His thoughts wandered to the day he saw her shirtless and, unconsciously, his thumb brushed her bottom lip. The touch caused Königsberg to react. Her eyes widened and she slapped him again. This time though, Russia welcomed the touch.

"Get off of me." she repeated but Russia was lost in the red of her cheeks, the rise and fall of her chest against his arms and body weight. She was small, powerless but powerful at the same time, adamant and graceful. He titled his head, analyzing.

"Mr. Russia," Lithuania's voice broke Russia from his trance "Your boss is waiting for you." the man said from the other side of the door. Russia straightened immediately, as he wasn't fond of his current disposition. This woman was going to be his undoing in one way or another. He fixed himself quickly, picked up his hat and slammed the door shut behind him. Königsberg jumped from the noise but didn't move from the bed.

* * *

**So, I thought about breaking this into two chapters; but, I think you loose the intensity that way. At any rate, this might be the longest chapter in this story lol.**


	30. Blood

**Blood**:

The room smelled of musk. The humming of the heating system filled in the vacant darkness. It was hot, far too hot for his liking. But during this time of year, if he turned the heat down, just a little ,the room would freeze. Snorting, he kicked off the covers. Bare marble skin, cold and hard as stone, drenched in moonlight. Next to him, a small grunt of protest from a sleeping woman. She pulled at the covers, twisting so her body lay next to his. Red eyes, placid and lucid as the blood he so loved, stared at the cracking ceiling. He laid unmoved by the woman, who spread her arms over his exposed pale skin. She hummed. Hummed like the heater that he hated so much. She smelled of musk, smoke and beer, the scent of a satisfied woman. Her fingertips were cold, pressing into his sides. How ironic, he thought. Cold fingers like blades, like the edge of a sword, a Russian sword, her homeland, digging into his skin. Let them dig, draw blood; he welcomed the pain. What was a warrior without battle scars? He licked his lips, he could taste the metallic goodness. Dissolved? Like hell. Make me bleed, he thought as her teeth grazed his neck. For every ounce of the rich red liquid they took from him, he would take 10 times more. The room smelled of musk, and as her lips touched his, he could taste blood.

* * *

**I know it's been awhile' I do apologize for that. My finals are next week and I had four term papers to write. These things consume my time; but, I thought I'd give you guys something! Happy Late Thanksgiving!**

**-Cece ^_^**


	31. I am

I am:

Sunlight drifted into the room, slow and unfocused, glaring on the windowpane. Königsberg flinched from the light that roused her from sleep. Moaning in protest, she pulled the pillow over her face and turned away. It did little help as light poured in from every window, brightening the space and rendering her efforts useless. She lay still for a moment, unsure whether to wake or go back to sleep. It was silent, indicating that it was in fact early in the morning. A servant woman would come soon, she knew. Sighing, Königsberg moved the pillow away and rose from the bed. Passing to get to her own bathroom, she glanced at herself in the giant oval mirror atop her vanity. She paused, retracting her steps until she was in front of it again. For a moment, she started blankly at the surprise that awaited her. She pushed the chair away, causing it to screech on the wooden surface. Pale white fingers gripped the end of the golden vanity. She leaned further into the mirror in disbelief, her mouth slightly open.

_No_…she thought and touched the top of her head. Eyes wide, she grasped a handful of blonde locks. It stood out terribly against what little brown she had towards the bottom. She tugged it a little, lifting it up to make sure it was indeed her hair. Lifting and sifting through the sea of blonde, her beautiful brown hair clung to the edges of her scalp, but the roots told of what would become of them. Her heart skipped a beat and she stumbled back, knocking the chair to the floor.

"I am Prussian." she softly declared. The blonde locks teased her declaration. Gaining more confidence, she straightened up, hair falling limp at her shoulders.

"I am German," she said a little louder, "I am not…I am not…" her eyes glazed over as a blue-grey eyed blonde woman stared back at her.

'I am not Russian." her voice fell to little lower than a whisper. "I am not...Kaliningrad" slowly back away from the mirror, her legs hit the fallen chair causing her to fall as well.

"I am not..." the sunlight warmed the wooden floor, and shone down on her feet. She reached for the top of her sleeping gown, trying, in vain, to hold what was now gone.

* * *

**Hello everyone! As you may have noticed, I haven't updated in forever. This is because, I am on vacation in New York. But I hurt my foot yesterday so I'm stuck in the hotel. Anyways, for those who maybe wondering why I have changed her hair, I'll explain. When Russian took possession of Kaliningrad, all the Germans were kicked out of the city and replaced with Russians, unlike places such as Lithuania which were only subject to Soviet rule and didn't lose all of their native population. Since these personifications are meant to represent not just the country, but the people within that country, it's only logical that Kaliningrad's appearance would change with the changing ethnicity of the city. If you look at the ethnic groups in Kaliningrad today, there are very few if any Germans living there. And that's the end of my history lesson. Merry Christmas to all and Happy Holidays!**

**-CeCe ^_^**


	32. Facing Truths

Facing Truths:

The cabin smelled of cedar and winter. If winter had a smell, crisp, cold and glistening. _Desolate, empty_. Yet the train was warm, comforting, opposite of what was true. Pale grey blue eyes, the color of the winter sky, stared at the elaborately decorated walls, colored in warm gold, red and brown hues. _Deceiving_. She thought and her eyes drifted towards the window at the snow-covered landscape. _When a nation is dissolved, the lands and people are divided, distributed and conformed to separate nations_. His words replayed in her mind, over and over again. _If they all disappeared, then so has he_. She fingered the hair, securely hidden under her military hat. Outside, a blue sign, white words written in Russia was coming up fast as the train slowed. She squinted and leaned further out. "Welcome to Kaliningrad" it read.

* * *

Hello all! I'm back from my vacation, and a good vacation it was! Whilst I was away, I came up with so many chapters so be on the lookout for multiple updates! I hope everyone had a fantastic holiday and New Year (the Mayans were wrong so that's a good thing!). Review, Fav, Follow do whatever! lol

Much love

-CeCe ^_^


	33. Turning Point

**Turning Point**:

"Kaliningrad are you listening?" Russia asked but the woman walking next to him gave no heed to his words. Her eyes scanned the streets littered with military personal and artillery. As Russia casually pointed to newly constructed buildings, in that late winter afternoon, the familiar had become foreign.

"Marshall Ivan, Sir." A solider said stopping in front of them to salute. He turned to her, as a means of respect, lifting his hands to his forehead in salute, she was momentarily stunned. He was her people, her Russian people.

"Ma'am," he said before stepping aside. They had made it to a courtyard were a building was being constructed. She knew this place. Taking a step forward before Russia could, the lot was recalling blurred memories.

"This building I am most proud of." Russia offered, letting her take the lead. She took another step, damp grass left streaks of water on her military boots. She looked down, then to her right where a small dirty pond rested.

"It was the perfect spot for the House of Soviets, don't you agree?" Russia turned to see Kaliningrad on her knees, fingers inside the dirty pond.

"The castle," she mumbled her first words of the day and Russia smiled.


	34. Letters

**Letters****:**

Kaliningrad sifted through the letters of "congratulations" sent to her from other high ranking military personnel in the Soviet Union, hoping to use them as a distraction._ It was mine to begin with_. She mused, tossing aside another letter of false comradery. Sighing, she shifted her gaze back to the mirror which sat atop the vanity of her room in her 'new' home. The countertop was littered with perfumes, make-up, combos and bushes, most of which she was to use in preparation for her reception. With an air of discontentment, she removed her military hat, letting blonde tresses free-fall. Tilting her head to the side, Kaliningrad grabbed a wooden brush and stroked the golden locks until they were somewhat straight. Her eyes scanned over envelopes, addressed in pristine Russian penmanship, until the corner of one caught her attention. Brows furrowed, she sat the brush aside and pulled it from betwixt the pile. The writing wasn't horrible; rather, it was Romanization of the Russian alphabet that caught her eye. Opening it with delicacy, she read over the familiar rhetoric, noting the emphasis on hopeful cooperation with Western Nations. Skipping to the closing remarks, the smooth white paper slipped from her fingers upon reading the signature of one General Beilschmidt.

* * *

Hell all!Hello all! I realize, juggling three stories and school work is not as easy as one might think. But, I'm getting it done! Enjoy, review, fav, follow and the like. Ciao!

-CeCe ^_^


	35. For Now

**For Now:**

Kaliningrad readjusted the black strap on her shoulder and pulled back a loose curl. She grabbed the tiny purple bottle. Squeezing the black pump, she sprayed her neck and wrist, filling the room with a gentle floral scent. She gave herself one last look over, turning her head from right to left, examining her own handiwork. Never one for make-up, Kaliningrad only wore a nearly nude pink lip color. An elegant young woman stared back, and although her face was void of emotion, Kaliningrad felt more herself now than she had in awhile. Her attention was drawn away from the mirror by a soft knock. She grabbed the letter that was on her vanity and put it in the top draw before rising.

"You can enter," she said, grabbing her purse. Lithuania opened the door slowly, peeking in as he did so, before stepping inside. He looked around for the woman he was supposed to be escorting.

"Hello?" he question, wondering if he was hearing things earlier.

"I'm over here." she said and he made his way to the side of the bed where Kaliningrad rose from fastening her hell strap. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't as he looked over his colleague who was donning, not military garb but an exquisite floor length black dress, a simple pendent with matching earrings and, the most shocking, soft blonde curls. His eyes lingered on her hair, wondering what happened to her deep brown. A small frown settled on his features as he realized he preferred the previous color.

"Let's go, Lithuania" she said, grabbing the sides of her dress and walking pass him towards the door.

"Toris," he corrected a bit startled by her sudden movement. He turned to face her and continued, "Toris, for now." Kaliningrad met his gaze, her features softened and the makings of a small but noticeable smile graced her lips. For a moment he wondered if this was how she looked all the time when she was apart of Prussia. _Graceful. Confident. Delicate. Refined._

"Koni," she spoke, interrupting his thoughts. Inclining her head to him briefly and holding out her arm for him to take it. "Koni, for now".


	36. Evasive Mannerisms

**Evasive Mannerisms**:

There was an obvious anxiety building as the sound of chatter drew near. Though Kaliningrad said nothing, Lithuania sensed that something might be bothering her. That, and she had taken to toying with the fabric of his dress coat as they walked. Through the candlelit hallway, Lithuania noted that her brows were netted, eyes focused ahead. But he imagined that she was pondering something other than the approaching woodwork of the walls. Opening his mouth to speak, he closed it again. _How should I go about asking what was wrong_? _Is it my place too? We are friends, right_? Unanswered questioned abound and as the double doors to the banquet hall approached, he found himself running out of time. Lithuania glanced down at his sleeve which was now wrinkled from the young woman folding then unfolding, twirling and twisting the material. Petite fingers fiddled continuously, occasionally brushing against the cool skin on his hand. And as Lithuania watched this, he found himself compelled to do one thing that would show his support without saying anything. So, without thinking, he placed one hand atop fidgeting fingers, which stopped moving as soon as he did so. Kaliningrad looked up at him, and he smiled a nervous but innocent smile.

"Sorry," she said with a twang of embarrassment. Lithuania gave her hand a little squeeze.

"We can wait out here, until you're ready." he offered, in hopes that it was the reception that was making her so nervous. She shook her head in the negative, squared her shoulders and released the tension in her features. If Lithuania hadn't been familiar with her sudden changes from damsel to heroine, he might have been swayed to believe the fidgeting was his imagination. Although he'd been used to the whimsical changes of female emotions, with Ukraine going from happy to sad or Belarus from murderous to dangerously in love. Lithuania preferred when Kaliningrad was more relaxed. Given the circumstance, he could empathize with her exclusiveness. Still, the man wanted to know why she felt the need to always be strong, it wasn't always necessary. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to ask just that.

"Ready?" Kaliningrad inquired and Lithuania lost all nerve with that one question. Sighing in minor defeat and annoyance at his own reluctance, Lithuania reached for the banquet hall's door handle.


	37. Dance of a different kind

_Dance of a different kind_:

"It is my esteemed pleasure to introduce to you, Secretary General Permanent of Kaliningrad Oblast." The crowd erupted in applause and congratulations as the spotlight shifted through the room and shone on the woman in question. Kaliningrad squinted and took a small step back at the immediate introduction. From the haze of lighting, Russia stepped forward. Dressed in mess military attire, medallions, medals and tassels adorned his black and red uniform, complete with his formal military hat. With a smile and silence he extended one hand. Lithuania released his hold of the woman and took a step back. Kaliningrad turned to glance at the Lithuanian who had his head lower in the presence of Russia. She frowned and looked back to Russia, not withholding her displeasure. And as the voices lowered to hushed whispers, Russia took another half-step forward, his hand extending a bit further. In a soft voice akin to him, which carried the undertones of a command more than a question, he spoke.

"Dance with me." Without awaiting her response, he grabbed her hand and with an effortless twirl pulled her into the center of the dance floor just as the strings and percussions instruments of Dmitri Shostakovich's Jazz Suite started. Kaliningrad gripped Russia's forearm for balance, and though she had been used to the Viennese waltz, fell into rhythm with the two-step and wide movements of the Russian Waltz. They both said nothing as the light airy sound of flutes combined with the high pitched twinkle of harps filled the room. Russia pulled back, extending their arms before pulling her back in, a bit closer to him this time. Grey blue eyes met purple ones as they repeated this movement of pulling apart then coming back together. With the thump of the tuba, clinging of symbols, and blare of strings, the larger nation spun the woman around. And as he did so, Kaliningrad quickly scanned the sea of faces in the adoring crown, looking for who she hoped was there. When she came back to him, their hands fell into place. His on her waist, one of hers on his shoulder the other holding up her dress as their steps became gradually smaller. The crowd once again erupted in approving cheers and applause; to this the Russian nation smiled more, holding the gaze of his dance partner. If his goal was to intimidate, Kaliningrad was not going to be swayed. So, she stared back which earned her a barely audible chuckle. From her peripheral she caught glimpses of others joining them on the dance floor as the waltz reached its high point. Her eyes shifted for just a moment, but enough to be caught off guard when Russia spun her again. This time, it ended with her back to him, arms twirled together in front of her. She stiffened a bit and they halted their movements momentairly. Kaliningrad titled her head to the side just as Russia bent his down. The visor of his hat shielded parts of her face, and brushed against her forehead. He strengthened his hold on her hands as Kaliningrad attempted to open the space between them. She inhaled sharply and the green crisp smell of pine and vodka flooded her senses as Russia pulled her back to him. The smell combined with the high-pitched music, made her suddenly feel faint. Among it all came the warm sensation of breath near her ear and her body reacted immediately but discreetly to pull away.

"Who knew the Secretary General of Kaliningrad was such a good dancer, da? Always surprises with you," said a whisper in her ear.

As a means to be enigmatic to the surrounding crowd and hopefully annoying to her dancer partner, she replied with grace, "Gilbert taught me to dance."

At this, Russia, spun her back out then to himself so that they were face to face. The sudden movement made Kaliningrad a bit dizzy and by the smirk on Russia's face, she imagined he did it on purpose.

"Is that so? Well, I will have to thank him for that one day, da" Russia replied just as the final note to the waltz concluded with a dramatic finish.

* * *

This story is taking on a mind of its own. Who am I to objected, huh? I'll just go with the flow! If you want, you are welcomed to listen to Dmitri Shostakovich's Waltz No.2 will reading this (I did while writing it). It adds a bit more dimension to the moment.

Ciao for now

-CeCe ^_^


	38. Hopes are for children

_Hopes are for children_:

"You cannot thank someone who does not exist," Kaliningrad challenged, "Or, is it that he does?"

Russia frowned and titled his head, "Would it please you if I said he did? You want your dear General to be alive, da. Do you hope for Prussia to rise again? We both know that is impossible. Can I share with you a secret?" he reached up and brushed over her hair. Kaliningrad turned her head away from his touch.

"Hopes are for children, Kaliningrad. Truths are all that is left to us."


	39. He keeps you close

_He keeps you close_:

Before Kaliningrad could respond Siberia, Ukraine and Belarus approached, the latter greeting Kaliningrad with an inhospitable glare. Russia turned to face them as Belarus circled both of her arms around one of his.

"Big Brother," Belarus said ignoring the woman next to him, "the Prime Minister is looking for you." She pulled him away towards the Prime Minister, Ukraine following happily behind them. Siberia stayed behind for a moment, a glass of wine held to his lips. He gave Kaliningrad an indifferent stare, to which she raised a brow.

"Hn, my brother keeps you close," he stated in a voice that was dull, bored even, but deep in comparison to his brother's voice. Siberia eyed her for a moment, gauging her reaction. His stare, cold and distant but inquisitive, made her feel apprehensive but she offered him no response.

He turned sideways, and sipped from his glass. His eyes lowered, they slid her way and ice blue pupils were partially covered by pale white lids. It was an unnerving stare.

"Very close, for such an insignificant oblast," he all but whispered before turning fully and following his other siblings.


	40. But, should I fall

_**But, should I fall**_:

None of it was true, it couldn't be true. She had hope, she would hope regardless. Kaliningrad picked up the sides of her dress and started walking. Searching faces, the letter that sat in her vanity's drawer in the forefront of her mind, she would prove Russia wrong. Looking left, right, behind and in front of her all the while walking progressively faster. She bumped people by accident but did not stop to apologies; she kept going, pressing, searching and _hoping_. Grace and etiquette aside, the young woman began gently pushing people out of her way as her pace and heartbeat quickened. People grunted in distastes but she paid they no heed. They were insignificant. _He wouldn't give up on me_.

All of them looked the same: formally dressed, blond hair, brown hair, blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes, _Russian_, and none of that was who she wanted. Kaliningrad growled low, and walked faster, almost on the brink of running. But in the large hall it was hard to run through the populated, enclosed space. And as the sea of bodies and faces became progressively tighter to navigate through, the room felt small, loud, hot and stifling. Her breathing became harsher and her lips and fingers tingled from the effects of it. _He has to be here_. The room was moving in circles, or was she? Kaliningrad looked up at the ceiling; the chandelier blinded her. The parquet designs started to swirl together and faded in and out of focus. Someone bumped her shoulder, spilling their drink, and it through her off-balance. She stumbled trying to regain footing but her legs felt heavy. Everything was collapsing on her; the people, walls and the ceiling. _I have to get out of here_. Kaliningrad turned towards the double doors that seemed miles away from her. Shoving in blind haze, fueled by the frantic need to escape, she clawed her way through. When she pushed, they pushed back and the wooden double doors seemed to be running away from her. In the midst of the noise, someone was calling her but she could hardly hear it over the sound of rushing water in her ears. Her legs felt heavy, arms felt heavy and her strength was quickly leaving with every person she moved out of her way. And when the double doors came in view,she practically threw herself out of the room with what little strength she had left. The cool air of the hallway, mixing with her perspiration, made every pore on her body open and tingle from the sensation. Kaliningrad gulped for air, her tongue tasted of metal and feeling of spinning hadn't ceased.

"Koni," she heard someone yell from behind. Had she left the door open? Kaliningrad turned slightly but her knees gave way from under her.

She smiled weakly just as the man grabbed her by her shoulders to keep her from falling.

"Koni? Breathe, Koni!" he instructed and shook her a little. Her eyes rolled but Kaliningrad fought the comforting urge to faint. She blinked rapidly to focus on her savior.

She wrapped her arm around his neck for support, "Toris," she said breathlessly and he sighed in relief.

He pulled her close for support. Over his shoulder, she could see the crowd congregated by the double doors, watching. Kaliningrad closed her eyes, choosing instead to take comfort in Toris' arms.

* * *

Just want to take time out to thank all those who read this story! If you've gotten this far, you deserve a thanks! Reviews and suggestions are welcomed! Much love, guys. Ciao

-CeCe


	41. Silent Disapproval

**Silent Disapproval**:

Trudging towards the edge of town, Prussia pushed his hand through his hair. "Damn lazy ass Russians," he grumbled. There had been a lack of military personnel for the past week, most being called to Moscow. This of course would have suited the Prussian just fine, had not there been an increase of attempted escapes. _Escape_, the word left a bad taste in his mouth.

Above the horizon the wall that caged them in came into view. Prussia's scowl was becoming more visible and the young officer next to him fidgeted with the buttons on his uniform. It was no secret that his superior had a bit of a temper, and the young man did not want to find himself on the receiving end of said temper.

"Report, Molden," Prussia called, walking pass the lieutenant who was awaiting their arrival, not bothering to return the salute. He frowned looking at the concrete edifice that divided his brother's homeless._ Ivan, you sick bastard_. It wasn't enough for him to take Prussia, but he had to divide and conquer half of Germany. If he could, he would punch a whole straight through the damn thing.

"…add that to the five more today and that's a total of 12 near escapes in two weeks, Sir." Lieutenant Molden concluded, but his voice carried an undertone of regret and perhaps disappointment. Prussia's red eyes slid towards his understudy, wondering if the man had the courage to say what was on his mind. Molden fiddled with the paper, as quite as a mouse. Prussia snorted.


	42. Something Important

**Something Important**:

Prussia shoved Lieutenant Molden into his office and slammed the door closed. He lit a cigarette and pointed the man to the chair on the other side of his desk.

"All I'm saying, Sir, is our German brethren are being slaughtered! This isn't right and you…" Molden was rude interrupted.

"I am Prussian! My brother is German but I am the awesome Prussia. Now, sit your ass down and shut up."

Molden did as he was told, not wanting to further aggravate the situation. Prussia sat in his chair across, opened his desk drawer and pulled out a map. Molden leaned over to get a better view. The map was littered with red markings all over what looked like the entire Soviet Bloc.

"Sir?" he asked, confused at the thing. Prussia took a long drag, and using the cigarette and his pointer finger he started to explain.

"You wanna start a revolution, you need to start somewhere. This whole thing is the Soviet Union, satellites and all. And if your happy ass tries to start something here," he pointed to East Germany, "it'll be dead along with you."

Molden frowned and pointed at the same spot, "But this is where we have the highest concentration of Germans. People that live here want to rebel, why not start here?"

Prussia sighed and stubbed out his cigarette. With his middle and pointer finger he tapped his lieutenant on the side of the head. "Use your fucking military brain and think! You don't think those Russians considered that? East Germany is the most militarized part of the Soviet Union because of potential uprisings. And Ivan probably has spies on every fucking corner. "

Molden nodded in understanding and a bit of embarrassment from his little blunder. Prussia waved his hand, as if to dismiss it and pointed to another section of the map.

"If we're going to start something, it'll be here." Prussia sat back in his chair and lit another cig. Molden looked down at where his superior pointed then back at him.

"In Kaliningrad?" Molden asked.

Prussia nodded and pointed to the map again, "Something important is there."

His lieutenant slowly sat back in his chair as if trying to rationalize the Oblast's importance. He took off his hat and sat it on his knee. The man's slicked back blond locks reminded him of his brother. Prussia swallowed the familiar feeling of anger that rose whenever he thought of Ludwig. He would get him back and more.

"Of course, the port," Molden interjected his thoughts, "It's the only warm water port in the Soviet Union. If we occupy that, then we cut off supplies. That's the important thing that's there."

Prussia didn't respond. The reason would suffice for Molden's purposes. But for Prussia, it wasn't simply a thing that was important inside the Oblast but a person.


	43. To Pertinent to Forget

**To Pertinent to Forget**:

Kaliningrad rested her head on the window seal, gazing patiently at the harbor below. Among the ships were a mixture of civilians and soldiers, wandering about their everyday lives. She twirled the glass of water in her hand before taking a sip.

"They wander without care. One would think they had not just had a war." She mumbled more to herself than her guest.

"It's 1953. People want to move on, to forget." Lithuania reasoned. Kaliningrad lazily turned to him and leaned against the window.

Her eyes drifted to her desk drawer where another letter addressed from General Beilschmidt lay with the first "Why is it still so pertinent in my mind?" The question wasn't meant to be answered and Lithuania didn't try to either.


	44. Something was not Right

_**Something was not right**__:_

Russia chewed his food deliberately. Methodical movements grinned the tender meat against his teeth until it was nothing but shriveled bits. He swallowed the final gritty crumble, washing it down with a healthy dose of vodka. And as the last bite of food settled into his stomach, Russia frowned at still present feeling of hunger. Something was not right. He glanced about at the rest of his family at the dining table. Silence. No way was saying a word, not even Ukraine. She calmly sipped her soup, tactfully avoid his harden gaze. Russia didn't relinquish his stare as thoughts ran through his mind. Has his sister being feeling the same emptiness…vacancy as he was now? If so, why had she not said something. Or was it some treachery done only to him?

Perhaps because of some sibling connection or the increasingly uncomfortable feeling of be watched, Ukraine looked at Russia. Her brother was frowning deeply, one hand hovering dangerously close to the knife he'd just used to finish his meal. More disturbing than that were his eyes, which bore into hers like nails. Those violet iris swirled with fleeting emotions of confusing, worry and mistrust. Without warning, Russia's top lip titled up into an eerily slow grin, the likes of which she had not seen since the last Tsar died. Indeed, something was not right.

* * *

Can anybody guess what is not right with poor Russia?

-CeCe ^_^


	45. State of Emergency

_State of Emergency:_

There were mobs of people. Protestors and supporters on every corner, littering the streets of Moscow so that navigating was nearly impossible. Kaliningrad tried to stay close to Lithuania as the Russian military led them through the Kremlin grounds. Security hovered over her as they nearly ran towards to entrance and in their rush, she'd lost Lithuania in the crowd. Yelling for him would be useless in the noise, for a moment, Kaliningrad panicked until a warm gloved hand found hers and she caught the top of the brunette's head.

The guard standing post moved aside as the nation and oblast were quickly ushered inside. She held his hand as they walked hastily through the winding halls. Lithuania looked straight ahead, jaw clenched and focused. He was in much more of a hurry than she was to see what spawned this emergency meeting. Or perhaps he just had more respect.

Whatever the case, Kaliningrad squeezed his hand which caused the nation to slow down a bit. "What do you suppose?" she asked.

Lithuania had woeful eyes wrecked with worry, and it bother her the way Russia made the man cower sometimes. "I don't know." he admitted with a shaky voice.

She didn't know if it was because they had walked so fast or because of who they were going to see. She resolved not to ask as they came upon the office doors.

* * *

**I was going to combine the two chapters so you guess would know what was happening. But then I thought, nah, make them sweat a little more! Keep the guesses coming guys! What the heck is going on in the good ol Soviet Union!**

-CeCe ~.~


	46. For Comfort

**_For Comfort_**:

She'd felt it days ago. That pinching ache of something being removed, pulled from herself. It was a dull pain that at the time, she couldn't place, but felt a sense of déjà vu.

"Why were you two holding the hands?" his voice was dull, lacking it's usual childish assertiveness. Kaliningrad side glanced at the nation next to her, he was forcing a smile in her direction that didn't meet his eyes.

Several expressions crossed her face until she finally settled on indifference, "Surely, you did not send for us from Kaliningrad to ask about why we hold hands?"

"Da," Russia looked away towards the window that overlooked the crowd "Answer the question still. What does he mean to you, that you hold his hand?"

A man was being subdued by an officer and wrestled to the ground. Russia frowned at the sight.

"Lithuania, is my friend," Kaliningrad spoke up, "And I held his hand for comfort. Anything else?"

She watched him closer though Russia was not doing the same. His lips started to curl into a smile but returned to nothing but a straight line, setting his features on something akin to confusion.

Kaliningrad followed his gaze back outside. The officer had his boot pressed to the man's back as he handcuffed him. Two more officers were shoving back the crowd with guns. Someone, from somewhere threw a smoke grenade and the people started to scatter.

"Stalin is dead." Russia muttered icily, sharp like daggers that cut at her skin.

That anomalous distant nagging pinched at her nervous. She looked at him, his apathy evident by knitted brows that threaded over a hollow stare. She'd known that look, the unforgiving emptiness of a lost leader, and cradled a nation through that pain. That same emptiness clouded violet eyes, undercut by the discontent of his own people.

Kaliningrad looked away, a reverent silence hung between them and she was not so bitter that she could not feel empathy. Flexing fingers reached for presumed cold but found warm yet callous and broad hands which stiffened with contact. Kaliningrad willed herself not to look at him, but trained her gaze on the slowly vanishing crowd.

_For comfort_. She though as her fingers curled and gripped his hand. Russia had not returned her hold immediately, but returned the nonetheless with hesitant fingers.

* * *

I can see how people guess Chernobyl! But Chernobly happened in 1986(?), we're still in the 1950s! Ugh, this a huge expanse of time I'm covering! We're only some ten years after the freaking war! I may have to speed this up a bit lol.  
-CeCe


	47. She is mine

_She is mine:_

Russia dragged the metal pipe along the stonewall of the old prison cell. An irritating distant echo of leaking water, pattering against the worn cold cement floor, further rattled his unsettled nerves. "You're comrade has been made an example of, and is displayed in the streets for anyone thinking of doing the same."

Arms hyper extended, with hands clasped and chained to the wall, Prussia's head hung. Grim and filth covered his white hair, giving it a dingy beige appearance. His military uniform in tatters from being subdued by Russian soldiers. He chuckled, ratting the rusted chains above him, causing Russia to deepen his frown.

"Molden wasn't really cut out," he lazily lifted his head, eyes closed but he smirked, "To be a solider. Too much passion."

Russia titled the pipe downwards, gripping at its end. He'd shed his military coat and scarf but kept his black gloves and black undershirt on.

He didn't need any more situations in that moment, and Prussia's little stunt came at the most inopportune time.

"But a martyr?" Prussia continued, licking at the dirt filled sweat at his top lip, "That'll just make people wanna hate you more. They already do, so that won't be hard."

He drew his legs up, planting his feet firmly on the ground, knees bent. With little effort, Prussia opened his eyes in time to see the metal pipe come down on left temple. He laughed outright, slithering his tongue out to catch the blood that trickled down his face.

Russia crouched before him, jerked his jaws, forcing him to look up and face him. "You thought your little 'uprising' would change anything, da? I own you! I own everything and everyone under my soviet bloc! You won't get anything unless I give it to you, East Germany."

Prussia grinned as best he could and whispered, "I came to take what's mine. I ain't asking permission, Ruskie."

"Kaliningrad is mine!" Russia bellowed, their faces so close that his nose touched Prussia, "You ungrateful, insolent little shit! She is mine!"

"If you said that with any more spit, I might believe you." Prussia darned and returned the gesture by spitting blood into his face. Russia broke his jaw.

* * *

_A/N: I'd like to give a special thanks to the top four countries (and it's citizens), who read this story! Since I can't thank you guys individually, well, this was the next best thing. Here are top four, from most to least: United States, United Kingdom, Russian Federation and Canada! You guys are the reasons I keep writing, so thank you very much! ( I think Canada is only here to read about Prussia; America because it's Russia; England because he's mentioned in the description and Russia...well..it's about him so I can understand that!) Much love!_

-CeCe ~.^


	48. Three Day Lamentation

**Three day Lamentation**:

For three days his body lay in state. For three days people crowded to the Hall of Columns to get a glimpse of their former leader. For three days, Russia watched from afar, nearly from sunrise to sunset.

Humans aged, they got sick and they died at a faster rate than countries. Russia knew this already. Stalin was getting progressively ill, but Russia refused to believe the man would die so soon. Lenin had just passed didn't he, and now his predecessor? There was already debate about who would be Stalin's successor and the man hadn't even had a proper burial yet.

The night Russia returned, his home filled with every personification of the Soviet Union, Belarus had been waiting up for him.

"Brother," she called; jumping up from the chair she'd just been sitting in, a blanket wrapped around her.

Russia didn't so much as spare her a glance as he made his way to the stairs. She followed close behind him, though he wished she hadn't. Upon reaching the top, he paused, turning to look down at his sister who was eyeing him wearily.

Russia forced a smile, "Go to sleep Natalya, the funeral is tomorrow."

Belarus walked up the final stair so that she and Russia were standing face to face, "I will if you do the same," she answered him.

"I will," he assured her. Belarus pulled at her blanket, tightening it around her shoulders.

"Then let me walk you to your room," she offered but was already headed in that direction.

Russia followed wordlessly behind his sister, a frown now settling on his features. He didn't want her around but was hardly in the mood to refute the company. Stalin was dead. He could feel the silent divide within his country and chaos was just over the horizon. His country would be torn apart just as it started to rebuild. Would things collapse as they did when Nicholas died? The feeling in his limbs was the same as they were then. Stalin was not supposed to die, not yet, not when Russia himself was so close.


	49. Foolish for a day

_**Foolish for a day**_:

Representative from almost every country had come. One of the Big Three had passed and though they did not always agree on politics, he was owed that respect.

Russia sat on a podium in the middle of Red Square, with Ukraine, Belarus and Siberia all standing beside him. Behind him, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Kaliningrad sat in their respective seats, which put Kaliningrad directly behind Russia.

The day had been a bit cool and Kaliningrad was grateful. For the tenth time since the address started, she'd finger the letter in her pocket. He was here. Whoever had been sending her these letters was attending the ceremony and she was more than a bit anxious for the formalities to be over. There were far to many people in the audience for her to be able to distinguish anyone but she tried still, craning her neck around Russia to hopefully spot a familiar face.

When the last minister spoke, she was on her feet before anyone, which earned her a questionable look from Belarus. Kaliningrad ignored it, as themselves, family and political allies were lead inside the Kremlin.

"Koni?" Lithuania called to her as she started to walk away from them.

She looked over her shoulder at him but didn't stop, "Wait for me, here."

As the audience poured in through the double doors, Kaliningrad positioned herself at the entrance. She straightened the front of her dress and ran her fingers through her side ponytail that Ukraine helped her achieve. To be hopeful was foolish, she knew. It had been years and he had long since been dissolved but that didn't calm her beating heart. It didn't stop the hairs on the back of her neck from rising or the perspiration forming at the tip of her fingers. It didn't stop her from grabbing the simple silver pendant around her neck. The necklace was much smaller and had no resemblance to the Iron Cross, but she held on to for principle sake. Hope was foolish, and she could afford to be foolish for a day.


	50. Der Kleine

**_Der Kleine_**:

Kaliningrad, focused solely on scanning faces, recoiled as a hand grabbed hers. Russia seized it again, frowning as she did not return the embrace but pulled her along.

If he felt her struggle, Russia ignored it completely, "Ivan?" she asked, aware of their surroundings. He offered no audible response, but squeezed her hand as they maneuvered through the growing crowd. Wherever he was taking her, he was trying to get there in a hurry, as she had to hold up her dress to avoid tripping over it.

"Marshal Braginski," someone called from behind. They stopped as the Minister of Foreign Affairs approached; Russia tightened his grip. Kaliningrad glanced at him, he was wearing the smile that she had long since noticed didn't reach his eyes.

"Minister," Russia shook the man's hand, "Nice to see again, although not under these circumstances."

She greeted him the same, smiling pleasantly and bowed her head briefly.

A bit surprised, the man returned the gesture. "Secretary General Koni" he said before directing his attention back to Russia.

"I know how close you and the General were," the man spoke again, "If you need anything all, please let me know. My wife and I would be happy to oblige."

Russia curtly nodded and smiled, "Thank you. Your kindness is much appreciated."

When the minister took his leave, Kaliningrad was about to ask for an explanation until she noticed the tight expression on his face.

"I do not like them," Russia answered before she asked, "They are fake. All of them are fake and I do not like it."

Though he was looking down, his eyes were distant and dark. Kaliningrad winced, the grip on her hand increasing steadily, threating to cut of her blood flow. She doubted the country before her was even aware of what he was doing; he hadn't blinked for a full minute. She jerked discreetly, trying to get away. Russia didn't give an inch and if he kept at this rate, the delicate bones of her fingers were sure to be crushed.

"Ivan," Kaliningrad hissed. Nothing. "Ivan," she tried again, stepping closer to him this time. She pulled on his shirt with her free hand to get his attention. When that failed, she grabbed his chin. Forcing purple eyes to look into pale blue one's.

"Ivan," she whispered and with a start he let go of her, blinking away whatever haze clouded his mind. Blood rushed to her aching hand, a throbbing pain forming now that it was set free. Kaliningrad looked away from him, taking her own hand to examine the damage. She would need to soak it soon for risk of swelling.

Russia placed his hand under hers, lifting it up so he could see, "I didn't mean to"

"Marshall Braginski," both Russia and Kaliningrad looked up at the voice.

Tall, blond hair, blue eyes, distinctly German accent, something was familiar. Kaliningrad squinted as her mind traced through memories. He stood; back straight, one arm at attention behind him, the other holding a full glass of red wine. It hardly looked like he took a sip. Her eyes connected to the Iron Cross that acted as a pendent on his formal military uniform. She knew him, very well in fact.

"Kleine," she muttered in utter disbelief, but it was loud enough that the man before her casted a long gaze in her direction. He didn't recognize her. The faintest trace of confusion in his eyes gave that way.

She stepped closer, moving from Russia so he could get a better view. Though his hair was perfectly laid back, Kaliningrad did something that she hadn't done to him in years. She reached up with her uninjured hand. The man physically stiffened, but she proceeded to brush fingers through the front of his hair, where his bang would be. "Der Kleine, Ludwig."

* * *

_A/N: If you don't know why what Koni did was so important, go back to chapter 19. It was sort of her thing that she did to both of them._

_-CeCe ^_^_


	51. East

**_East_**:

"How is your hand?" Germany asked, cradling a beer in his hand.

Kaliningrad sat her coffee cup down to eye the bandaged work that Lithuania had done for her, "Better, it should be find in a few days. How long do you intend to stay in Moscow?" she asked in turn.

Germany slowly pulled the beer from his lips and swallows thickly. There is a coaster within easy reach on the low table in front of them, but he didn't relinquish his grip on the alcohol. "Not long," he finally said. "I should return today. To be honest, I shouldn't even be visiting. I can't afford to be away from Berlin, not really, but…I just had to get out of there, if only for a few days."

She nodded, hummed neutrally in acknowledgement, but didn't pry. Although there was an aching worry in the back of her mind to inquire about her once sister, Kaliningrad let it go.

Germany sat on the edge of the cushion and looked as if he wanted to fidget. Hands hanging between his knees, arms propped on his legs, weight shifted forward. He didn't slouch; he was still very much a soldier, ready to leap to attention at a moment's notice. "Are you sure it's safe to talk here?"

Kaliningrad snorted and grabbed her coffee, "There is no safe place within the USSR. But this parlor, my parlor, is about as secure as we can get," she shifted in her chair, bracing herself for the answer to her next statement, "I got your letters…all of them."

Germany took a drink of his beer, "I didn't know what to expect," he admitted, " My boss wanted it to be something diplomatic, a way into the East. When they said you were going by Kaliningrad now, I was sure that Russia had changed you completely. But you kept the name Koni and for that I hoped…" he stopped.

"What? Hoped what?" she pushed, a sudden increase in her heartbeat.

Germany met her eager gaze and sighed deeply, "…That you knew something of Gilbert's whereabouts now that he might be East."

The coffee cup nearly fell from her fingers and Kaliningrad had to use her injured hand to keep it from splattering on the table. "East what? What do you mean Gilbert might be East?"

Germany's fingers twitched worriedly around the bottle, "East Germany. You mean you didn't know about the wall?"

"I…" she looked sat the cup down again, preferring to stand to keep calm, "Russia keeps secrets from us. Lithuania told me that Prussia was dissolved after the war, I didn't think he could still be alive."

Germany stood this time, placing his empty beer bottle on the coaster, "I can't assure that. But I have hope."

Kaliningrad nodded. She had hoped once, but time slowly depleted it until there was very little left. _Hopes are for children, Kaliningrad. Truths are all that is left to us. _Russia's words always reminded her no matter how much wished he was wrong.


	52. Empathy

**_Empathy_**:

Germany slammed his hands on the desk, "Let me see him" he yelled, face red with anger.

Sitting back in his chair, Russia thought on the request for a moment, "Who?" He responded with a smile.

"Don't try your mind games with me," the German pointed an accusing finger at him, "I know he his here, all of the SSR is here as well as Warsaw members. Now, where are you keeping my brother?"

Russia frowned, the amusement he had earlier was sudden lost and he eyed his enemy. He didn't deserve any kindness or sympathies from him. Yet here Germany was, demanding it. Just like Russia had demanded his people back from every concentration camp that ingrate had them locked away in. Forcing them into hard labor, starvation, cruelty and inhumane conditions.

There was no empathy for them, no remorse when he slaughtered them mercilessly. But Germany had an expectation for mercy for him and his brother. That Russia would understand his sentiment and given in. The thought makes him laugh out loud and he leaned forward.

"The wall is there for a reason, da?" Russia responded, a gleam in his eyes, "To separate, you are one aside and he is one the other."

Judging by his reaction, it was not the answer Germany was hoping for as he pushed himself away from he desk. Stalking towards the window, he crossed his arms and looked outside, "I don't deserve your kindness, I know that" Germany's voice had lost it's edge and Russia listened with half an ear, "And I am not used to begging but,"

Somber, blue eyes turned to him, "Please, Ivan. I just want to know if he is alright."

"He's alive." Russia curtly responded, voice cold and hard as he stood to his feet. It was more than Germany deserved to here in his opinion.

The German man was on his heels as he headed toward the door, "Alive and okay are not the same."

Patience wearing dangerously thin and highly annoyed, Russia spared him a hated glance. The childish smile that usually donned his face was gone, all pretenses dropped, "Alive is better than dead and is much more than I can say for the 13.7 million of my civilians that were left under your generous care." He opened the door, "And I have also increased security on imported material going to Kaliningrad. So your boss can stop sending letters of diplomacy to her, they shall go directly to me, da. I hope you have a safe return, Deutschland."

* * *

_A/N: It was estimated that about 13.7 million Russian civilians died in German concentration camps or in Russian territory occupied by Germany. The number is a close estimate thought it varies slightly, both higher and lower, depending on which country's data you examine. Regardless, Russia suffered the most causalities of every nation, both civilian and military personnel during the war which was estimated to be about 21.3 million people._

_-CeCe ^_^_


End file.
